only example now remaining of his attempts in
this style is the Chapel of Lincoln's Inn. St. Katharine Cree in the
City has been attributed to him, but with little probability. And if
he had essayed to work in Gothic at St. Paul's, it would not have been
in accordance with precedent. Nearly all our great cathedrals display
endless varieties of style, because it was the universal practice of
our forefathers to work in the style current in their own time. We
rejoice to see Norman and Perpendicular under one roof, though they
represent periods 400 years apart. In the case before us Gothic
architecture had died out for the time being. Not only our Reformers,
who did not require aisles for processions nor rich choirs, but
the Jesuits also, who had sprung suddenly into mighty power on the
Continent, repudiated mediaeval art, and strove to adapt the classical
reaction in Europe to their own tenets. Nearly all the Jesuit churches
abroad are classical.

It was, no doubt, fortunate that Inigo Jones confined his work at St.
Paul's to some very poor additions to the transepts, and to a portico,
very magnificent in its way, at the west end. He would have destroyed,
doubtless, much of the noble nave in time; but his work was abruptly
brought to an end by the outbreak of the Civil War. The work had
languished for some years, under the continuance of causes which I
have already adduced. But Laud, as Bishop of London, had displayed
most praiseworthy zeal, and King Charles had supported him generously.
When the troubles began, the funds ceased. In 1640 there had been
contributions amounting to L10,000. In 1641 they fell to less than
L2000; in 1643 to L15. In 1642 Paul's Cross had been pulled down,
and in the following March Parliament seized on the revenues of the
cathedral.

With the Rebellion the history of the cathedral may be said to be a
blank. It would have been troublesome and expensive to pull it down,
so it was left to decay; the revenues were seized for military uses,
and the sacred vessels sold. There is a doubtful tradition that
Cromwell tried to sell the building to the Jews for a stately
synagogue. Inigo Jones's portico was let out for shops, the nave was
turned into cavalry barracks. An order, quoted by Sir Henry Ellis,
of which there is a copy in the British Museum, came out in 1651
prohibiting the soldiers from playing at ninepins from nine p.m. till
six a.m., as the noise disturbs the residents in the neighbourhood,